


Pierced

by LiveOakWithMoss



Series: You Drove Me Wild [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Ear Piercing, Flirtation with a large needle, M/M, Tyelko's terrible moonshine, not quite a pairing yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 08:05:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1850629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Light, self-indulgent Maedhros and Fingon in the early days. In which Fingon starts a tradition of putting holes in Maedhros, but it's worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pierced

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Насквозь](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6606193) by [rio_abajo_rio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rio_abajo_rio/pseuds/rio_abajo_rio)



“Hold still, Maitimo. _Eru_ , it’s like trying to stick a moth on a pin.”

“One usually smothers the moth first, and at any rate, I’m not sure I like this analogy.” Maitimo winced as Findekáno flourished a large silver needle before him.

“Oh, calm down. It’s just the one.” Findekáno tossed his head, setting his braids dancing, glinting gold along with the row of rings that traced the curve of his ear.

Maitimo tried not to be distracted by this, settling for a frown instead. “I’m not convinced this is practical. Don’t they get caught on things? Isn’t that a hazard?”

“You sound like my brother.” Findekáno busied himself with the needle and a candle, turning the thin steel so that it flashed white in the flame. “I’ve never had a problem with it. And if that’s your only excuse, it’s a terrible one. There are plenty of other hazardous things – long hair, for example. And it doesn’t seem to be stopping you.”

“Yes, well.” Maitimo glanced down at the red mane flowing over his shoulders. “Maybe I should cut it short like Moryo, then.” 

Findekáno caught his chin in one hand and met his eyes sternly. “Don’t you dare, Maitimo." His eyes softened as he looked down at Maitimo's bright head, but then he went on, cheerfully, "Now, be a lamb and hold still while I get the disinfectant.”

Maitimo sighed and leaned his head back against the parapet. They were out on a stone balcony, the late morning light turning the city roofs below them to glittering gold. The day was warm, and Findekáno had already pulled his tunic off and used it to wipe sweat from his brow. Maitimo averted his eyes from Findekáno’s bare chest as his cousin knelt before him again, this time brandishing an unmarked bottle of a clear liquid.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What’s that?”

“Some of Tyelko’s moonshine.” 

“ _Finno_. That stuff will turn you blind.” 

“I’m not planning on drinking it, silly, it’s for disinfecting the wound – the piercing –,” he amended hastily, as he saw Maitimo’s eyebrows raise alarmingly, “once I’m done.” He eyed the bottle meditatively. “Though, it can’t hurt to test the strength.” He popped the cork, took a swig, and spluttered. “Elbereth, that’s foul. Anything that could survive that has my utmost respect. Perfect sterilizing agent.”

Maitimo groaned and let his head drop back with a thunk. “Remind me why I let you talk me into this?”

“Because I’m terribly persuasive.” Findekáno grinned. “And,” he added, in a softer voice, “because I like the idea of having something on you that I put there. Don’t you?”

Maitimo looked up into those bright, blue eyes, and remembered why he’d said yes in the first place. “Yes,” he said again now, helpless.

Findekáno smiled down at him. “Well then. Are you ready?” 

“…Yes.” Maitimo braced himself.

Findekáno swung a leg over his lap, kneeling over him as he took his chin gently in one hand, tilting it to expose his left ear. “Want a swig of Tyelko’s murder whiskey first?”

“No. Just do it.”

Maitimo closed his eyes as the needle went in. He flinched again as Findekáno expertly threaded the small gold hoop through the hole and then dashed a bit of the burning liquid onto it. He opened his eyes only when a light hand touched his cheek. “All done. Want to see?”

Findekáno leaned back to grab a small hand mirror from the ground, and held it up. Maitimo turned his head, considering. The ring flashed in his slightly reddened earlobe, reflecting off the bright glints of gold the sun drew from his hair. He smiled, despite himself. “I like it.”

“I knew you would.” Findekáno took a triumphant swig from the bottle and coughed. “ _Urgh_. It grows on you,” he added, unconvincingly.

“You have terrible taste, Finno.”

“Not when it comes to jewelry, though.” Findékano looked down at his handiwork smugly.

“Apparently not. Are you planning on letting me up anytime soon?” Maitimo leaned back, gazing up at his cousin.

“I dunno. I kind of like that I’m taller than you like this.”

“And fatter. I can’t feel my legs.” 

“How _dare_ you!”

Maitimo reached up, grinning, and caught Findekáno around the waist, making to lift him up, but Findekáno brought his arms up defensively, catching Maitimo in the temple with an elbow.

“ _Ow_. Barbarian.” They toppled over sideways, laughing and grappling, and only stopped when Maitimo let out a hiss of pain as his freshly pierced ear was grazed.

Findekáno froze, his braids scattered across the dusty ground, his legs tangled around Maitimo’s. Maitimo froze too, his heart suddenly beating hard, though he told himself it was because of the pain in his ear, not the concern in Findekáno’s blue eyes, or the feeling of his cousin’s body pressed against his.

Findekáno reached out tentatively. “Are you – ”

Maitimo caught his wrist before his fingers could graze his ear, but held it gently. “It’s fine.” He pulled himself free and sat up slowly, shaking dust from his hair. Findekáno followed, brushing off his clothes. There were smudges of dirt on his bare torso. 

Maitimo stood, and reached a hand down to help Findekáno up. “Thank you,” he said, breaking the silence. “I do like it, very much.”

Findekáno smiled, and ducked his head. He looked up, opening his mouth like he was going to say something, and then stopped himself. Instead, he said, “It suits you.”

Maitimo held Findekáno’s tunic out to him, and then reached for the bottle of liquor. “Come on. Let’s see if we can get Tyelko to drink enough of this that we can convince him to pierce his navel.”

Findekáno’s laugh rang out over the rooftops.

**Author's Note:**

> 0\. Concrit welcome, concrit adored, and please excuse the corny title.


End file.
